


they sing

by tasteslikeciel



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: M/M, Multi, Takeru comes to Den City early, canon pretty much ends at s1 for this lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasteslikeciel/pseuds/tasteslikeciel
Summary: Things gradually return to normal after the Tower of Hanoi crumbles and Yusaku is content in the peace, or so he thinks. A few months later, however, Jin vanishes into thin air overnight and Yusaku starts to see strange things and feel constantly ill. There’s a voice, too, whispering sweet nothings into the wind, dripping with honey and syrup and no Lost Child, it seems, is able to resist…





	1. Jin is Missing

**Author's Note:**

> y'all ready for spooks and mysteries cuz you're getting spooks and mysteries today *eyebrow wiggle*

“I don’t see Playmaker anymore.” comes a small, quiet voice. It’s as monotonous as ever, but there’s a hint of something else present in his tone. It almost sounds like concern. “How is he?”

Shoichi blinks up at his little brother in surprise. It’s the most Jin has spoken in a very long time and it’s highly unusual compared to his typical noncommittal hums or one word answers, but it’s certainly not unwelcome. He follows Jin’s gaze to see it trained on the muted television set in the common room area they’re sitting in together. It looks like another past duel broadcast of various Charisma Duelists’ duels is playing yet again. At the moment, it’s one of Blue Angel’s many victories back before the Knights of Hanoi really started making a mess of things. Between her, Go Onizuka, and the news of reconstruction efforts following the Tower of Hanoi’s fall, there’s not much else concerning popular VR duelists being broadcast these days. Playmaker still has fans and is hailed as a hero by many, but SOL seems intent on shifting attention away from him altogether, probably due to all the trouble he’s caused them. Still, it’s just as well. Yusaku has no interest in returning to Link VRAINS, or dueling for that matter.

“He’s resting these days.” Shoichi finally responds with, offering Jin something of a forced smile. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s actually a bit worried. Yusaku works best when he has a set goal, but now that there’s nothing but school and life in general for him to tackle, he’s a bit like a lost lamb. “He’s strong, but even heroes need a break, you know?”

Jin only offers a hum and a short nod in response and says nothing more on the subject.

About a month prior, Shoichi explained to Jin in private about what happened with Dr. Kogami and the secrets they uncovered about the Lost Incident. He left out the parts concerning Dr. Kogami’s son out of respect for Yusaku’s wishes (and as a silent thank you to Ryoken himself since he’s the reason Jin and the other victims even escaped in the first place), but everything else he explained as best he could, making sure not to leave out any other details. He thought it might help Jin with his recovery if he knew his tormentor could no longer hurt him and it seems to have done the trick because Jin is much more relaxed than he has been in the past. He’s still quiet and still skittish around others, but progress is progress. Jin actually smiles a little now.

“You two haven’t even met yet, have you...” Shoichi continues thoughtfully and shifts to rest his arms atop the table they’re seated at. His forced smile turns into an easy grin. “Maybe I can get him to tag along with me next time?”

Yusaku and Jin are both around the same age, give or take a few months apart. It could be a golden opportunity for the two of them to strike up a friendship now that things have settled down. It might even help Jin to open up more by having someone who understands his trauma there to talk to. Yusaku as well, since he’s so adverse to human interaction with strangers.

At his offer to bring Yusaku, Jin doesn’t say anything, but his eyes narrow ever so slightly, almost unnoticably so and Shoichi, fearing he’s said the wrong thing, backtracks.

“Only if you’re up for that.” he quickly adds and gives a short, nervous laugh. “There’s no pressure. You just seemed a little...interested in him, is all. So I thought maybe you’d like to meet him and uh...”

He trails off as Jin glances away from the television broadcast to offer Shoichi a slight widening of his eyes. His mouth opens a little but then closes soon after and after a moment of silence, he nods a little and hums, offering Shoichi a tiny smile. He then makes a few gestures with his hands.

_No, it’s fine_ . Jin signs in reply. His hands hesitate to continue and he stares down at them with an odd look on his face, but eventually he continues. _Your stories about him are interesting. I would like to meet him one day._

Shoichi’s shoulders sag in relief. That isn’t a rejection. Maybe a bit of reluctance but not outright rejection. It’s something he can work with. Luckily it’s a subject he’s brought up with Yusaku once before, who had a similar reaction to Jin. Shoichi would like to chalk it up to shyness on both their parts, but it must be awkward meeting another victim of something that changed their whole life. He’d like them to meet because he cares deeply for both of them and if they could perhaps become friends...

“That’s great, then.” he settles for replying with. “I’ll talk to him about it, but I don’t think he’d mind coming.”

Jin nods once, tiny smile still present, and moves to gather the blanket around his shoulders.

_Do you mind if we move?_ he signs, expression turning questioning.

“Ah, not at all.” Shoichi says and moves to stand. “Where to?”

_The garden? It’s quiet this time of day._ Jin signs and afterward moves to stand as well.

“Sounds nice. Let’s go.”

Shoichi walks over to wait for Jin and once he’s ready, they leave the common room area and begin walking down an adjacent hallway that leads to other parts of the institution. Now that Jin is finally able to leave his room and walk around, he enjoys spending time in the garden outside when it’s quiet and mostly devoid of other people. When his nurse takes him for walks, it’s their go-to place aside from sitting by the cliffside railing where a clear view of the ocean can be seen.

Jin gets better and better every day and Shoichi couldn’t be happier about it. Maybe one day, Jin could even leave this place and return to living a normal life, or as normal of one as he could help his little brother have anyway.

And he’ll do _anything_ to make that happen. Whatever Jin wants or needs is his, as far as Shoichi is concerned.

As they traverse the hallway, their destination a side door that leads straight out into the gardens, Jin stops walking suddenly and peers out a nearby window, a frown on his lips and a pinch to his expression.

“...niisan?” comes his quiet voice.

Shoichi stares out the window as well, trying to figure out what caught his little brother’s eye, but nothing seems to be there. “Something wrong?”

Jin opens his mouth to speak but pauses, a faint “ah” leaving his throat as whatever he’d been about to say sticks and he doesn’t speak at all. His expression grows a bit more distressed and for a moment, Shoichi worries he’s upset him, somehow. However, after a tense few moments have passed, Jin pulls at the blanket around his shoulders and quickly turns away from the window, shaking his head to himself and muttering something under his breath.

“Jin?” Shoichi lets a frown of his own cross his lips and his brow furrows. “Jin, what is it?”

He reaches out to carefully settle a hand against Jin’s shoulder. There’s a small tremor when he does, an instinctual jump from being touched. Jin is a bit like Yusaku in that regard. Both are adverse to being touched and will quickly distance themselves from it until they feel more comfortable. Thankfully, Jin doesn’t try moving away like he would with anyone else. Instead, he lets out a quiet breath and turns back to stare up at Shoichi, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. He looks conflicted about something, but after a long silence finally breaks it with a question.

“...can you hear them?”

“Hear...them?” Shoichi repeats, confused. He hasn’t heard anything but the wind and their own footsteps clicking against the tile flooring. “Who?”

“...”

Jin doesn’t answer. His lips twist and he tightens his hold on the corners of the blanket, knuckles turning white. He then jumps suddenly, makes a tiny noise out of fright, and then huddles against Shoichi, light tremors running through his body. It leaves Shoichi bewildered.

“Jin?”

Shoichi rubs a thumb against Jin’s shoulder for lack of anything else to do. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, only that Jin is upset over something. A something Shoichi apparently can’t hear, but Jin can. He glances out the window and again sees nothing strange. It’s a pretty day, honestly. Bright blues and clear whites and gently swaying flowers dancing in the breeze.

What did Jin hear?

“Hey, it’s probably nothing, yeah?” he tries. He offers his little brother a smile and a gentle shoulder squeeze. “Maybe you’re just tired? Or it could just be another resident.”

Jin doesn’t respond to that and if anything, his frown deepens. He stays silent and still, eyes glazing over and shoulders hunching the longer they remain standing in the hallway and by that open window.

Shoichi bites his lip.

“Hey, it’s--”

Jin quickly shakes his head and signs in an agitated manner, saying he doesn’t want to stay by the window anymore. His hand movements are jerky and harsh and it takes a moment for Shoichi to process it, but once it clicks, he nods and gives a quick apology.

“No worries. Let’s just head to your room, okay? We don’t have to stay here.”

The reassurance does little to ease the stiffness in Jin’s shoulders, but relief does flash in his eyes as they start walking again. Jin is all too eager to leave the window’s side, but not before glancing out it one last time, perhaps out of reflex just to make sure the window isn’t following them or something to that effect.

A flash of fear paints his little brother’s face the instant he looks back and for the rest of his visit, Jin refuses to let go of Shoichi’s hand, even to sign a response.

 

-x-x-

 

“You want me to go with you?” Yusaku looks up from his half-eaten hot dog, eyes widening a touch in surprise. Sure, it’s something they’ve spoken about before, but...he never imagined it would actually happen. “...are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Kusanagi chuckles at him goodnaturedly and uses the grease-tipped tongs in his hand to flip a few hot dogs sizzling on the grill. “I mentioned it to Jin already and he seemed pretty open to the idea. Even said he wanted to meet you.”

“Did he…”

Yusaku trails off as his attention returns to his own hot dog. Kusanagi’s cooking is always good, but at the mention of meeting Jin, his stomach drops. He settles the hot dog down on top of the truck’s big computer terminal, suddenly feeling a little less hungry from a flutter of nerves. It’s not that he’s scared to meet Jin or even that he’s particularly worried of how Jin might view him, but Kusanagi’s visits to see Jin always felt like something he wasn’t allowed to intrude upon. Despite helping Kusanagi fight for Jin’s sake and receiving ample support in return, he’s never put much thought into their camaraderie lasting longer than their path of revenge. And yet, here they are...

“Is...that okay?” he asks quietly.

Yusaku can hardly remember what having a family is like, but he thinks it’s probably wrong to get involved with another’s like this, even though invited. He does care for Kusanagi maybe more than he should allow himself to and if he can allow a solitary selfish thought here, he thinks that maybe the feeling could be mutual... But the whole idea of it, that Kusanagi actually _wants_ him as an active part in his life, is hard for him to wrap his head around. It makes him feel uneasy just as much as it makes a small part of him feel warm.

Kusanagi’s smile falters a bit at the question.

“As long as you’re on the list of people OK’d to visit, then yeah it’s fine.” he answers easily enough, but Yusaku’s known him long enough to hear the slight disappoint hiding away in his tone. “Besides, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

Yusaku glances at him out of the corner of his eyes and wonders.

For all intents and purposes, he supposes, yes. They are friends. But that word carries such a heavy meaning and saying it so freely, even to someone who’s been nothing but good to him like Kusanagi has, is far too daunting a thing to manage at this point in time. He just can’t and so he doesn’t and instead chooses to hum noncommittally as he picks his hot dog back up.

“I’ll think about it.” he settles for replying with and takes a bite.

Kusanagi gives a soft snort as he flips over another sizzling weenie.

“You _can_ use the ‘f’ word around me, you know.” he teases, lips spread into a wide grin. “I won’t tell anyone you know such language. Promise~”

Yusaku sends him a narrow-eyed look over the top of his hot dog bun. If his mouth weren’t full of food, he’d complain more verbally, but alas, a glare will have to do.

In response, Kusanagi merely chuckles at him in amusement. He then lifts his head and looks out past the grill and the top counter to gaze at the sparkling blue ocean gently splashing against the sandy shore.

“Sun’s starting to go down.” he muses. “Maybe we’ll get to see the bioluminescence happen today? It’s been a while.”

It has, but Yusaku doesn’t know if he wants to stick around and wait for it or not. He hasn’t seen Stardust Road in all its otherworldly glory in two long months.

Not since the tower fell.

Not since Re--

He bites into his hot dog to still a sigh.

Kusanagi brings him here a lot despite the lack of customers that visit. It’s away from the city and is peaceful enough to sit around. Takeru even tags along at times (today being an exception). But Yusaku suspects the frequent trips out here is just Kusanagi’s way of giving him an excuse to watch out for a certain someone. Just on the off chance they come back sooner rather than later (and the former seems unlikely).

“Mm.” is all he offers in response.

Yusaku thinks maybe they shouldn’t bother coming here so much. Link VRAINS is silent without his or the Hanoi’s presence and Ai is supposedly off living peacefully in his home world along with the other Ignis (Flame being a lone exception as he seems to enjoy being with Takeru and vice versa). SOL has been upping the bounty hunters lately and he does find that a tad disconcerting, but with all previous parties now out of the spotlight, there’s really no threat. So there’s no reason for that certain someone to return right now, if he ever will at all (and Yusaku believes he will, one day).

“I wonder if Jin would like to see it…” Kusanagi continues and drifts off into quiet thought.

But that quiet is disrupted by the sudden ringing of a cell phone hidden within one of Kusanagi’s back pockets. He keeps two, one for business and one for personal matters. But the one ringing right now is his personal cell that he keeps on him at all times, just in case Jin’s nurses or Yusaku need him for some reason.

Kusanagi pauses and takes a moment to set the tongs aside and wipes his hands on his apron before grabbing his cell and glancing at the caller ID.

When he does, his face pinches with worry and that makes Yusaku’s eyebrows knit.

“The rehab facility…” Kusanagi mutters, lips pulling tight. A call is never a good thing. A call means something is wrong. He takes a deep breath to steady himself and accepts the call with an anxious: “Kusanagi Shoichi speaking.”

Yusaku can’t hear what the other person is saying. All that reaches his ears is the static-y sound of muffled chatter. But the longer he watches the call go on, the paler Kusanagi seems to get until Yusaku is eventually startled by a disbelieving shout.

“ _What?_ ” Kusanagi looks dumbfounded and he staggers, just barely catching himself on the edge of the counter. “That’s not-- _how?_ ”

Yusaku blinks, mouth opening a tad, and he settles the bit of hot dog he still has left back down.

“Kusa--”

“ _What does that even mean?!_ ”

Yusaku jumps a little and looks on as Kusanagi’s stricken expression slowly begins to fill with rage.

“That’s ridiculous. _That’s ridiculous!_ ” Kusanagi’s face twists and his glare pierces the floor. His grip along the countertop is so tight that his knuckles have gone white.  “How do--that’s!--”

Yusaku vaguely hears frantic noises spill from the cell phone’s speaker. He can’t make out any words, but judging by Kusanagi’s reactions alone, something happened to Jin (because what else could it be?).

Kusanagi’s grip on his cell tightens, fingers trembling. “I’m coming up there _right now_.”

He ends the call and clenches his phone tightly, too tightly. His expression is defeated, on the verge of tears. Yusaku hasn’t seen him this upset in a long time.

“Kusanagi-san?”

“Jin is gone...”

Yusaku blinks. What? “Gone?”

The hand clenching the counter curls into a fist. Kusanagi’s jaw clenches and he nods once in answer before reaching up and slamming his fist back down against the counter out of pure frustration.

“Nothing they said makes any sense. He’s just gone! Can you believe that? How do trained professionals just _lose_ a sixteen year old?” he seethes. His shoulders are shaking and Yusaku can’t help but stand to place a hand against his shoulder. “Just when things were starting to be okay again…”

Jin, one of the six victims of the Lost Incident, is now missing. That fact alone raises a lot of red flags within Yusaku’s mind.

“We have to go check things out then, don’t we?” Yusaku says and earns a surprised face from Kusanagi when the other man looks up at him. Yusaku smiles just a little. “You did ask me to go with you before.”

Despite himself, Kusanagi huffs out a laugh.

“I did, didn’t I?” he muses.

Kusanagi takes another deep breath and lets it all out in a shaky sigh.

“Right. Then let’s go.”

“Mm.”

The two strap up into the front seats and set off towards the rehab facility. With traffic at a minimum and Kusanagi’s speeding, they reach it in record time. However, once they arrive, a thought seems to hit Kusanagi and he turns to give Yusaku an apologetic look.

“I...think you should actually just stay here for right now. I’m probably going to yell. A lot. I don’t want to scare you or anything, you know?”

Yusaku’s expression softens just a bit. Kusanagi is always thinking of him, even during times of stress.

“You’re not scary, but okay.” Yusaku says and lets go of the seatbelt he had been in the process of undoing. “I’ll wait here until you come back.”

Kusanagi sighs a little in relief. “Thanks. Sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Mm.”

He watches as Kusanagi steps out of the food truck and rushes into the facility. Once he’s gone and out of sight, Yusaku lets a frown touch his lips. He leans back into his seat and stares out at the landscape and the big facility building up ahead for lack of anything else to look at.

_‘Maybe I can check the news…’_

He pulls out his phone and scrolls through various underground news feeds for a while. He even checks some social media platforms despite not having any accounts himself. But nothing interesting sticks out. There’s no news of the Hanoi, nothing more about the bounty hunters SOL hired, and no suspicious network activity that coincides with Jin’s disappearance.

He sighs and puts his phone away after stumbling onto another horrible Playmaker fansite.

“Nothing…” He stares back out the windshield and leans against the passenger door, eyes narrowing and chin settling into his hand as he props his arm against the glass. “People don’t just disappear for no reason…”

His eyes close as he thinks and he briefly entertains the thought of taking a nap, but humming catches in his ears and his eyes open as he pauses to listen. The sound is breathy and somewhat gravelly, like someone is trying to sing with a sore throat or is out of breath.

Oddly enough, it sounds close by...

“ _Yob elttil teews ym, ih._ ”

His heart thuds as words are whispered right into his ear and Yusaku turns and is startled when he sees a young woman standing right outside the truck, pressed just a little too closely right next to his window. She has soft pink hair pinned up into a messy bun and pale skin just a bit similar to his own. He can’t see her eyes, for some reason, but her mouth is spread into a wide, open grin. In a way, she’s familiar, but Yusaku can’t think on why.

He stays silent and stares. She doesn’t move and neither does he. But eventually the staring contest becomes too much (and is it really a contest when you can’t see the other person’s eyes?). So he opens his mouth, hesitantly, and speaks.

“Who--”

But he’s interrupted when the passenger door makes a noise as the handle outside is pulled. The woman’s face doesn’t change, but he can see her arm moving as she tries to open the door.

“ _Em ees emoc uoy t'now?_ ” she says in a language he doesn’t understand. She speaks in a breathy voice, but something about it is almost digital. It sounds wrong and faint traces of static prickle goosebumps along his skin. “ _Gnol os neeb s'ti..._ ”

Yusaku double checks that both the front and passenger doors are locked up tight, but that does little to make him feel safer.

Who is this woman? Is she a resident of the hospital?

“M, Miss...could you please leave me alone?” he says and swallows around a lump in his throat. Why can’t he see her eyes? Where did she come from? “I’m waiting for someone.”

She stops tugging against the door handle and presses a hand against the glass window instead. Still, her expression doesn’t change.

“ _Yob elttil teews ym…_ ” she says and although she’s close enough to fog up the glass, it remains clear.

This is too much for his nerves and Yusaku’s hand flies to his seatbelt. There’s no way she can get in, but he’s not staying here and letting her do this. The back of the truck is a safe hiding place and he can busy himself with something online until she either gives up or Kusanagi returns and can help him deal with her.

But just as his seatbelt comes undone and he’s about to move back into the safety of the truck, she begins to hum and his body stills like a puppet whose had their strings cut. It’s the same tune from earlier, drawling and breathy and mesmerizing, and she slowly sways on her feet as if dancing to her own song. Her nails scratch against the glass and tap, tap, tap.

And like being lead by a siren’s call, he unlocks the door as if in a trance and she opens it, still humming, and delights in taking his hand and pulling him outside.

“ _Yob elttil teews ym…”_

Hands press against his cheeks and slowly slip down to his shoulders. She pulls him into a hug briefly and then lets go to take hold of his hand once more.

And he lets her, unable to tell her no, because he can’t think.

“ _Emoh emoc_.”

She pulls him away from the food truck and, hand-in-hand, they walk away towards a railing overlooking the ocean. All the while, she keeps humming and it lulls him into a sense of peace the longer he listens. Everything else disappears. All his troubles, all his worries. Everything melts away until only she and her humming exist.

When they reach the railing, she lets go of his hand and climbs over to the other side with ease despite the long skirt she’s wearing. Then waits, still swaying, still humming, not minding the danger this poses at all.

“ _Emoh emoc._ ” she drawls in that breathy voice of hers. “ _Emoh emoc…_ ”

His hands wrap around the railing.

“-ku?”

Her already wide grin somehow widens even more as he attempts to join her on the other side.

“-saku? Yusaku!”

But a hand wraps around his upper arm before he can and he jolts, mind clearing and body stilling as the apparition quickly vanishes within the gentle breeze. He stands there, blinking, confused, and his eyebrows knit as he looks around, trying to remember where he is. He sees flowers all around him and a large brick building near a railing that overlooks the ocean. These things hadn’t been here a moment ago. Or, had they? His memory is fuzzy...

“Yusaku?”

He jumps and when he looks back, Kusanagi is suddenly standing there with a worried expression and a deep frown marring his weary face. Seeing him jogs Yusaku’s memory in an instant and he remembers what this place is and more importantly, where he is. It’s the rehabilitation hospital Jin stays at. They’re here because Jin suddenly isn’t.

“Kusanagi-san…”

The hand holding his upper arm hesitantly lets go and Kusanagi stares, something unreadable reflecting in his gaze.

“What are you doing out here?” Kusanagi asks and there’s something in his tone that Yusaku doesn't like. It almost sounds suspicious and maybe a bit frightened? “Why didn’t you wait for me in the truck?”

The truck? Ah, right. Yusaku was supposed to stay in the truck while Kusanagi spoke to the facility staff in person, but now he’s...in a garden? He remembers hearing someone sing, remembers a woman with pink hair speaking to him, and then...nothing. He doesn’t remember how he got out here.

“...”

Words clog his throat and he finds he can’t offer Kusanagi an answer. It bothers him that he can’t because he doesn't know why he’s no longer in the truck. He stays quiet, his lips thin, and his shoulders hunch. He can’t look Kusanagi in the eyes anymore.

“...” Kusanagi softly sighs after a moment and offers Yusaku a shoulder pat. “You look tired. Let’s get you home, okay?”

Yusaku’s gaze snaps back up to his face. “But what about Jin?”

Kusanagi deflates a little, but there’s a determined shine in his eyes and a strength in his voice when he speaks again.

“They won’t show me any security footage, but that’s what hacking is for, right?” He flashes Yusaku a smirk. “I’ve got this covered. I know you want to help and I’m grateful, but you seem a little ah...out of it, right now? We’ll talk more about this in the morning.”

Yusaku frowns but doesn’t argue and allows Kusanagi to lead him back towards the truck.

 

-x-x-

 

Coming home is a quiet but painful affair. Yusaku’s head pounds as fizzles of static buzz underneath his skin like bees moving around in a hive. It vaguely reminds him of the way electricity would course through his body as a child trapped in that white room and the thought sends trickles of suppressed fear dripping down his spine. He tries to ignore it, tries to pretend he’s fine, but the more he moves, the worse the feeling becomes.

“Wh...at...”

A fresh wave of nausea swims through his gut as he opens his apartment door. The room tilts as his vision swims and he stumbles over to the kitchen table to collapse into a chair, a groan making its way out of his throat as he slumps over onto the table with his head in his arms. He hasn’t felt right since leaving the rehab facility and it’s something that’s only grown since his return home. He feels incredibly sick and unsteady on his feet, like he’ll pass out at any given moment, and he doesn't understand why.

“Master is home!” comes a tiny voice and he opens his eyes as much as he can to see Roboppi rolling up to his side, a happy little (⁀ᗢ⁀) flashing across her face. “Welcome home, Master!”

He opens his mouth to try and give her some kind of reply, but the moment he does, the nausea grows stronger and he quickly presses a hand over his mouth as his stomach lurches.

Bathroom… He needs to get to the bathroom…

He sways as he stands but manages to catch himself on the table before falling over. His body feels so weak and his legs shake as he stumbles over to the opposite wall, but he perseveres and pushes himself to move.

Roboppi trills after him, concern flashing across her LCD screen as she watches him stubbornly try reaching the toilet before he loses his dinner all over the floor. Her arms flail a bit and she rolls to and fro uncertainly.

“Master is sick?” she questions and then frets when he all but collapses into the bathroom and immediately starts retching into the toilet. She hesitates but eventually rolls up to him and pats a mechanical hand against his lower back. “Roboppi will take care of Master!”

He doesn't know what she could do considering Yusaku himself doesn’t even know what brought this sudden sickness on, but the sentiment is comforting and when his stomach is empty and the nausea fades, he offers her a reassuring head pat.

“Thanks.”

Roboppi’s face lights up with another smiley face and she trills up at him, pleased her efforts are appreciated.

“Master’s hand feels warmer than usual.” she observes and if he’s honest, the room does feel hot despite the cool tile underneath him. “Robbopi will take Master’s temperature.”

“Mm.”

He doesn’t have the strength to argue and merely leans down a bit, slowly, so that Roboppi can stretch up one of her hands to rest against his forehead. She has a wide range of functions built into her and among these things is a function to take temperatures through the sensors on her rounded hands. They rarely saw much use nowadays, but when he was smaller and more prone to becoming sick, it made things easier for him because they were closer in height and she could do what she needed while he lay sick on the couch or in bed.

She beeps and a temperature reading displays across her screen.

38.9°C.

So he does, in fact, have a fever and out of nowhere, too. Wonderful.

The reading blips away and Roboppi makes a sad face.

“Master should rest for today.” she says and then her expression becomes more stern. “No work!”

It’s not like he has much choice in the matter. The rehab visit with Kusanagi left him feeling unnerved and filled with a need to do _something_ useful to help search, but they didn’t exactly have any leads as to Jin’s whereabouts just yet and with this sudden bout of illness, Yusaku doesn’t think he can focus enough to try finding anything anyway.

“Alright.” he tells her and braces himself before pushing himself back onto his feet. The world swims and he winces as the movement makes his head pound even more. “I...I’m just going to go to bed.”

Roboppi makes a worried little noise.

“Should Roboppi contact Kusanagi-san?”

He quickly shakes his head without thinking and immediately regrets the action. “N...no. No, I’ll just...take some medicine and rest. Don’t call him. I’ll be fine.”

Kusanagi has enough to worry about without Yusaku adding sickness into the mix. He was already suspicious after seeing Yusaku act so strangely at the rehab facility, so Yusaku doesn’t want to worry him any further. Not with something like this.

Roboppi continues to make troubled noises, but does nothing more than follow along after him as he descends the staircase into his bedroom, where he promptly collapses into his bed, school uniform and all. His sheets are nice and cool and feel amazing, but he wishes the buzzing under his skin would just stop already.

Roboppi trills in worry behind him and he shifts to roll over and lifts his head a little to look down at her.

“I’ll be fine.” he tells her and closes his eyes in pain when his head throbs. He slumps back against his pillow. “Just, just let me rest for a little while.”

He can’t see whatever emoji flashes across her face, but her sad little trill is telling.

Sometimes, he wishes Ai were still around so he could distract her and she wouldn’t have to fuss over him and worry like this. She may be just a robot, but she’s still _his_ and sometimes it feels like she’s all he has at the end of the day.

He meant to swallow some medicine before diving into his bed, but stumbling into his room and making it down the stairs without falling took what energy he had left to give and now he can’t move. His body feels too heavy, like there are steel weights tied to his limbs. So he tells himself he’ll take something once he can walk straight again and then drifts off into a dreamless slumber.

Only to awaken to indecipherable chattering once night has fallen.

It’s like hearing voices through an old radio that’s far away. It’s irritating and he vaguely wonders if Roboppi is watching another of those ridiculous dramas in the other room. And here he thought he was done with those ever since Ai left...

Yusaku groans a little and pushes himself up, eyes fluttering open and mind groggy under the fog of sleep. He feels somewhat better, not nearly as hot. His head no longer throbs, at least, but the noise in his ears, in his head, still bothers him. He doesn't mind Roboppoi watching her shows, but right now, his ears are too sensitive to the noise.

“ _Snekawa ecnirp htxis eht. Dlihc, gninrom doog_.”

Yusaku stills as something shifts nearby and a voice spills into the room like static leaking from a broken television set. It grates on his nerves, sets them on end, and leaves the air with that telltale electric sting that always terrified him back in the white room. It sounds like it’s all around him, too, but it feels more like it’s in his head and a sense of dread slithers like a serpent around his heart as he can’t help but think: _I’m not alone_.

Slowly, he turns his head as something dark catches in his vision and then his breath leaves him, eyes widening, as he comes face to face with a flickering, pixelated shadow. It’s bulky shape is humanoid but misshapen, like something a child might draw in an attempt to create something scary. Glitching colors pepper its body at the edges as well and it reminds him of something he might find glitching within the network.

His mouth slips open, words on the tip of his tongue, as the shadow’s crooked mouth turns up into an ugly smile.

“ _Thgin doog dna._ ”

There’s no warning when it lunges and Yusaku is slammed onto his back, phantom fingers coiling around his wrists and neck so forcefully that he can’t breathe. He struggles to rip his arms free and his legs kick out, but the hulking shadow merely presses in closer, a twisted, static-y giggle falling from the void it calls a mouth.

“ _Eid llahs dna leehw gninnips a fo eldnips eht no regnif sih kcirp llahs eh dna._ ” The creature squeezes and pushes him into the mattress even more as garbled nonsense falls in screeching, static waves from its gaping hole of a mouth. “ _Ecnirp riaf ym, reve dna reverof peels uoy yam._ ”

It’s not a language he can understand, all high-pitched sounds and jumbled syllables. He feels as if he’s heard it somewhere before, though (and maybe he has; perhaps in a dream; perhaps in a nightmare). Regardless, it’s hard to think with the growing darkness creeping around the edges of his vision. The creature’s grip along his throat is like a steel vice. He can’t talk or call out for help, he’s losing what strength he has to fight back, and he can’t breath.

_God, he_ **_can’t breathe_ ** _._

“ _...ggk..._ ”

He tries to bite into the black ooze trying to seep up around his mouth, but it’s like he’s digging his teeth into slime. The creature shows no signs of feeling any pain and although he’s thrashing about and tearing at its body hard enough and deep enough to draw blood, there is none.

His vision blurs with tears.

“ _Tser ot dial eb tsum sesruc xis eht. Ecnirp elttil, eerf eb dna peels._ ” it screeches out and then it giggles, as if this is somehow amusing. “ _Yballul a uoy gnis em tel_.”

It starts to hum this awful tune and Yusaku’s mind fogs, body beginning to still against his will. His world is starting to go black and he can’t dredge up anymore energy to do anything about it. He can only lie there, neck and wrists being mercilessly squeezed, as this eldritch abomination sings him to his grave.

“St..o..”

This thing...it could snap his neck with little effort, if it tried. It could put him out of his misery, end his life right here and now. Yusaku would die without ever finding Jin and he’d never see his special person or Ai ever again. But the creature seems content in watching him slowly suffocate and struggle for air because its mouth is wide.

_‘I, I don’t want to die like this!’_

Something in him snaps just then and a surge of energy rushes through his body as the fog in his mind clears. He grits his teeth, digs his fingers into his palms, and manages to swing out a leg hard enough to slam his foot between the thing’s legs. It feels like a useless action because if biting didn’t work and his previous kicking attempts brought no harm, why would this one, desperate kick do anything at all? But something in him urges he _fight_ and what didn’t work before seems to work now.

The pressure digging into him disappears all at once as the creature releases him with a pained screech. Yusaku wastes no time in throwing himself to the ground to put space between them, but his chest heaves as he sucks in air and his body shakes as he coughs uncontrollably. He tries to crawl forward but collapses, arms and legs like jelly underneath him.

_‘Get up!_ ’ he begs, trying to force his body to obey but it doesn’t want to. _‘Get up and move!’_

He tries to push himself up with his arms and they shake from the effort of trying to hold his weight. In truth, he’s actually underweight for someone of his age and height, but right now it’s like he’s supporting a body made of concrete. It’s too much of a strain to try holding himself up and he collapses back onto the ground, continuing to cough as frustration settles into his heart.

Think… Think of something! He has to get out of here before it’s too late!

_‘Think._ ’ a thought enters his mind and he latches onto it by a thread. _‘Think of three things.’_

Three reasons to fight the enemy. Three things to survive. By thinking, he can live and living is something he absolutely _must_ do.

One, Kusanagi Jin is struggling out there, somewhere, a victim of a second kidnapping. He and his brother don’t deserve this kind of torment, especially after finally finding peace after so long. Yusaku has to find Jin and bring him back home. It’s enough to make his arms move again and he pushes against the ground, teeth gritting.

Two, he finally found his special person after all these years. They’ve done some bad things and still have their own issues to work through, but it doesn’t change the good they’ve done, for him and for the rest of the victims of the Lost Incident. Yusaku wasn’t able to say what was really in his heart when he found them again and it’s something he has to do, eventually, because he thinks it’s something they need to hear. Thinking of this helps Yusaku to pull himself forward, towards the stairs and the exit.

Three, he’s finally starting to learn what it means to have a friend and that scares him immensely. Homura Takeru barged his way into Yusaku’s life with all the grace of someone crashing into a brick wall. Yusaku initially kept him at a distance, as is his way, but Takeru has this power to make people like him and Yusaku...does. He’s terrified of letting himself care too deeply, but at the same time, he wants to see where it goes, see how a friendship like this lasts.

From somewhere behind him, Yusaku can hear the thing move. It gurgles and growls and he forces himself to keep crawling forward to get away from it, his reasons for fighting for survival firmly set in his mind.

_‘I have to reach the front door. I have to get out of here!’_

He needs something to support him so he can pull himself up, _anything_. That “anything” ends up being the stairs leading out of his basement-like room. There’s no railing built into the wall and the stairs themselves have an L-shape in a floating design, but he’s desperate and crawls up onto them regardless. He pushes himself and struggles as his arms shake, but manages to stagger to his feet. His legs shake, however, and he has to hold onto the wall for support, otherwise he feels like he’ll drop at any minute.

_‘Move. Please just move!’_

He tries but doesn’t get very far. Something wraps around his left ankle and _yanks._

“!!!”

A pained gasp leaves his throat as he slams into the stairs and is dragged back down to the floor.

“ _L, let me go!_ ” he manages to yell out before the creature wraps a slime-like hand around his neck, picks him up, and slams him into the wall. “ _Ggk!_ ”

“ _Elggurts uoy od yhw?_ ”

The hand around his throat tightens and he digs his fingernails into the slime and kicks and thrashes as his air supply is cut off yet again. But it does nothing but make things worse for him. The creature starts to hum again and Yusaku’s mind is once more filled with fog. His arms drop, his legs stop kicking, and he just dangles like a dead weight within the creature’s grasp. He can’t move, he can’t think, and his three reasons for surviving, the things that helped him move forward when his body just wouldn’t, are all swallowed up by darkness.

“ _Peels_ .” the creature hisses into his ear. “ _Eid._ ”

Strangled gasps filter out of his mouth and his vision blurs with tears all over again. He wants to struggle, he wants to _move_ , but he...he can’t fight back. Something about the way the creature sings lulls his mind into a sense of nothingness. It’s like it’s stripped him of his autonomy, gone is his free will, and now, because he can’t fight it, he’s going to--

“ _Yusaku!_ ”

Something slams into the creature’s side with so much force it flies across the room and Yusaku falls to the ground in a gasping heap, the spell instantly broken as the shadow’s humming ceases. He chokes on coughs and gasps as his lungs greedily drink in all the air they can pull in, but it burns. His chest hurts.

“Yusaku, _run!_ ”

A familiar voice rings out, tone urgent and desperate but filled with an edge of rage that spooks him. He tries to look up and see what’s going on, but it’s hard to see with the room so blurry and he’s so, so tired… Still, he struggles and forces himself to squint through his blurry vision. He can make out a small purple shape hovering in the air near the fallen creature.

“A...Ai?”

“ _Go!_ There’s no time! Just _go_ while I can still hold it off!”

He’s never heard Ai sound so distraught and angry before and doesn’t know what to make of it, but when the hulking shadow begins to stir, Yusaku takes the opening for what it is and starts crawling up the stairs. It’s hard because his body is so weak and he’s just so, so tired, but with the fog lifted from his mind once more, his reasons for fighting have returned and buzz in mind far louder than the static he can feel prickling at his skin. He pulls and pushes and _pulls and pushes_ until he’s finally able to stand.

Behind him, the pixelated shadow creature lets out a loud, harsh wail that sounds like every digital audio glitch mixed together into one, high-pitched noise. He stumbles against the wall, hands pressing against his ears because the sound _hurts_ , but his reasons for surviving and Ai’s pleading words that he just _go_ echo in his mind and he pushes on and stumbles up the stairs and out of his bedroom.

_‘Ai.’_

The farther away he gets from the creature, the clearer his head becomes and the faster he’s able to move. He passes Roboppi on the way out the front door, stalls briefly because he doesn’t want to leave her in this place, and then orders her to follow him. Although she makes an upset face (“Why isn’t Master in bed?!”), she does as told and quickly rolls after him.

_‘Thank you, Ai.’_


	2. Buried Out at Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like a week late because I was indecisive af about a scene break oof

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Spectre glances up from the cup of hot tea he’s been nursing to see Ryoken slipping out onto the yacht deck. He looks a little disheveled with his typically perfect hair a mess, tired eyes struggling to stay open, and voice still groggy from his impromptu desk nap. He still has the blanket Spectre draped around him earlier wrapped around his shoulders as well and it makes for an amusing sight. It’s fun, in a way, to see someone normally so perfectly put together look so messy, but Ryoken pulls it off in a way others can’t, which is an amazing feat considering most humans wake up looking like gremlins.

At his lack of a response, Ryoken’s brow creases in concern as he shuts the sliding door behind him.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, a little frown tugging at his lips. The concern makes him look a bit more alert and Spectre quietly tuts, wishing Ryoken would mind his own health a little more instead of fussing over everyone else. “It isn’t like you to be up this late...”

He trails off and walks toward the little table Spectre had set up earlier in the day, blanket held together in one hand as a gentle ocean breeze makes it flare out behind him like a ghostly white cape. The distraction from his thoughts is welcome, Spectre admits, but Ryoken has a terrible sixth sense about these sorts of things and it makes hiding things from him extremely difficult. Be it someone he cares about or something to do with the network, he always seems to know when something is wrong.

“Mm…”

Spectre takes the time to avoid answering by taking a long sip of his chamomile tea and lets his expression remain neutral, for just a bit longer, as he carefully considers how to answer. The steam from his tea spirals up into the chilly night air like wisps of phantoms crawling out of the dark and it’s funny, he quietly muses, that such an analogy fits the dilemma he’s been facing for the past week.

But Ryoken shouldn’t know anything about it. Not if Spectre has any say in the matter, at least.

Things are a bit complicated, in that regard, unfortunately. His unshakable loyalty begs he tell Ryoken anything and everything he asks of him, but the truth, for once, isn’t really an option here. Although it deeply pains him to keep secrets from Ryoken, he has this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that it’s not something his friend should know about. For his safety and peace of mind, it’s best to keep quiet.

It’s not like he can explain the strange phenomena he’s been experiencing anyway. He can only assume, with dark amusement, that he’s being haunted by ghosts of his past.

He allows his ever-present smile to slip across his face and it comes easy and naturally despite how uneasy he feels.

“Not particularly. Just couldn’t sleep.” he finally answers and it’s not so much a lie as a half-truth. He raises his cup of tea a bit in greeting. “Care to join me?”

If anything, Ryoken’s frown deepens, but he does take the empty chair by his side and then shakes his head when Spectre tries to pour him a cup.

“I’ll never sleep if I drink something now.” he explains and stares at him, gaze searching for an answer Spectre’s not willing to give. “Something must be bothering you if you can’t sleep.”

Spectre sighs loudly and shakes his head a little, eyes closing as he sips at his tea again. “That sixth sense of yours is amazingly ill timed...”

Ryoken leans forward in his seat. “So there _is_ something wrong.”

Spectre tuts.

“It’s just a bout of insomnia, I can assure you.” he answers, quick to pin the blame on something simple. “Happens to everyone at some point, I imagine, but I’ll get over it. That’s what the tea is for.”

That part, at least, isn’t an outright lie. Chamomile is soothing and just the sort of thing someone can use as a sleep aid. It typically works splendidly for him, but perhaps his mind is running a bit too quickly tonight because this is his fourth cup and he’s still wide awake and able to hear the static buzzing through the night air with just as much clarity as before. He hasn’t seen any visions yet (which is strange), but the static vibrations he can feel always follow them wherever they go. So he knows they’re out here, somewhere, simply lying in wait for their chance to strike.

He doesn't know what to call them, really. Apparitions, hallucinations, whatever they are, etcetera. They’re like shadows he catches in the corner of his vision and although they speak to him, it’s not a language he’s familiar with. Sometimes they sit in corners just staring at him, other times they crawl along the yacht ceiling like playful children playing a game of tag, and other times still they swim around in the water lapping against their temporary home, calling out to him with crooked smiles on their glitching faces.

He never answers back and does his best to pretend he can’t see them at all, but they don’t seem to like that very much and keep him awake at night, scratching at the door or banging at the windows and no one else ever seems to hear it. It’s unsettling, to say the least, but he’s far scarier than these things will ever be and so doesn’t particularly fear them. However, what sets him on edge most is how they like to hover a little too closely near Ryoken, almost like they know this is the quickest way to rile him up. When they grow tired of being ignored by him, they’ll flock to Ryoken’s side, try to coax him into playing with them, and become unreasonably outraged when he doesn’t react to their presence at all.

He’s glad they can’t seem to touch either of them because he knows, without a doubt, they’d do something awful to Ryoken just to upset him.

But he can’t explain any of this because he realizes how ridiculous it all sounds. For all he knows, he _is_ hallucinating, but on the chance they are real, he doesn’t want to risk making Ryoken aware of their existence if it could possibly put him in danger. Not yet, at least.

“So you come outside in the dead of night to drink tea?” Ryoken questions, brow creasing. He sounds incredibly unconvinced by this excuse and Spectre can’t really blame him for it. “You’ll catch a cold out here in nothing but pajamas.”

Spectre glances down at his white and gold trimmed pajamas and shrugs lightly, still forcing that smile onto his face.

“The tea is keeping me warm so no worries~” he assures and gestures to the tea kettle resting on the table. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some tea? It’s chamomile. It’ll help you relax so you can sleep better.”

Ryoken leans back against the chair and huffs. “I just woke up.”

“After drooling all over your laptop, yes.”

Ryoken’s cheeks color a faint pink at that and he looks away, a bit embarrassed. Admittedly, the sight of Hanoi’s fearless leader passed out like an overworked college student had been cute and Spectre can’t help the amused chuckle that leaves him at the memory of it.

Ryoken sends him a tiny glare for it.

“I’m _fine_.” Spectre insists once more, after his chuckles have subsided. Then his smile grows a little softer, becomes a little more caring. It’s one he only ever gives Ryoken. “I’ll come back inside soon. You should really go to bed, though.”

And just because he can’t resist the urge to tease him, he adds: “You know, before you ruin all our electronics with drool.”

Ryoken glances back at him, cheeks still a faint pink but frown not quite so prominent anymore. He sighs quietly.

“If you’re sure nothing’s wrong…”

As if in response to Ryoken’s words, the static buzzes even louder in his ears all of a sudden, and Spectre pauses, smile slipping as it pierces his head like a sharp needle. The buzzing is shrill and accompanied by breathy humming, like muffled radio static from a station that just won’t connect. The buzzing doesn’t hurt, not really, but it’s like being doused in electricity all the same and that’s not a sensation he’s felt since his time in the white room.

“...yes. Just go to bed, please.” Spectre says after a moment’s pause. He knows he took too long to answer, but now he’s too distracted to keep up appearances. “...I’ll be along shortly. I promise.”

Ryoken’s eyebrows knit and he stares at him hard, but eventually he closes his eyes in defeat and finally stands from his chair.

“Alright…” he gives in with a quiet breath. Instead of leaving, however, he takes the white blanket draped around his shoulders and moves to wrap it around Spectre’s instead. It has Spectre looking up at him, blinking back the fog creeping into his mind. “At least take this. I don’t want you catching a cold over tea.”

That has Spectre’s soft little smile returning.

“Mm. Indeed.”

“Good night.”

And with that, Ryoken finally leaves him to his musings and his tea, unaware of the shadows creeping around the edges of the yacht. Or the humming drifting up from the moonlit water surrounding them, like the call of a siren luring sailors to their watery graves.

~~

When morning finally comes and the first rays of the sun break out over the horizon, Ryoken awakens from an unsettling dream in a cold sweat, his chest tight and his breaths quick. Distant flashes of a nightmare settle in his heart and his mind spins, thoughts scattered and nonsensical. It’s childish and baseless, but he still turns, voice uncharacteristically fragile in that single moment, as he checks.

“Spectre?”

It’s not unusual to find Spectre has risen before he has, but perhaps because his emotions have been compromised by a ridiculous nightmare, today feels different and he climbs out of bed, heart thudding in his chest. Typically, Spectre would be in the kitchen as he preferred being the one to cook, especially breakfast. It’s early (very, very early), but--

The kitchen is empty and silent when he slips through the doorway.

Dread begins to creep like twisting vines along his nerves and he checks other places instead. The deck, the bathrooms, the engine room, etc. He checks and he checks, but after roaming the entire yacht twice and finding nothing, Ryoken realizes that Spectre is gone.

The only thing he finds is the blanket he gave Spectre, draped over the edge of the yacht.

 

-x-x-

 

Nighttime falls and the city is alive with colorful lights, the sound of late night traffic, and all manner of people doing all manner of things. They’re all caught up in their own little worlds, but still find the time to stare after him as he rushes past, out of breath, clothes askew, and with a tiny robot trailing along behind him in a concerned fuss. It’s unusual for a high school student to be out this late and so of course it raises eyebrows and causes those curious to start whispering amongst themselves. Him running like he is doesn’t help matters, either. It draws too much attention and Yusaku hates it because he can feel the burn of several pairs of eyes boring into his back, but he can’t stop now. His mind is running at full speed as his breathes come out in wheezing gasps from the combination of being strangled and running away at Ai’s insistence.

Ai…

Is he okay?

Yusaku left him alone with that creature without a second thought because he was panicking and yet he stopped for Roboppi on his way out. Granted, he’s had Roboppi’s companionship for far longer than Ai’s and he had already accepted weeks before that Ai had left him for good. Still, something like guilt smoulders in his belly for abandoning him like that and makes his insides churn with an unpleasant sickness that causes his head to spin. Maybe that’s just his sickness bringing on the nausea, but he can’t deny (to himself, at least) that he does feel some kind of guilt over it.

That creature, the bizarre language, Ai, that woman he met at the rehab facility who’s nothing more than a vague blur in his memory now...

He’s on the verge of a panic attack just thinking of the implications of what they all mean and that feeling only grows the farther he runs and the more exhausted he becomes. Eventually, he stops somewhere once the spinning in his head becomes too much and he feels like fainting onto the hard pavement.

On a street he doesn't even know the name of, in a place where the number of people dwindle and their outfits become more and more revealing, he collapses into a nearby alleyway, spent both physically and mentally. The brick building at his back and the dirty pavement underneath his bottom is wet with some kind of fresh liquid, but he hardly cares. His head throbs mercilessly as static pricks at his nerves like sharp pin needles being stuck into his skin and his neck and wrists ache something awful.

Bruises. He’s definitely going to have nasty bruises later on. He can already see them blooming on his wrists and doesn’t want to think about how badly his neck is going to look.

He can hide the ones on his wrists, but his neck… How is he going to explain that away? If he goes to school like nothing is wrong, child services will be on him suspecting abuse at home and if he simply goes to Kusanagi, he’ll demand to know who hurt him and put himself in danger by trying to confront whatever that thing in Yusaku’s apartment is. He may even be forced to go back to see a doctor or forced to stay in the hospital.

Yusaku doesn't want any of that to happen.

“Master? The temperature outside is too cold for a sick person.” Roboppi trills through his frantic thoughts. He snaps his gaze down at her as she rolls up to his side, gently bumping into his leg as a (｡╯︵╰｡) flashes across her face plate. “Master needs rest. Let’s go home?”

They can’t. Not with that thing still in his apartment, assuming it hadn’t followed him out the door. If they go back now (or if he does, at least), Ai’s efforts will have been in vain. He finds it odd that Roboppi never reacted to the creature’s presence or his shouts, but then again, she’s likely grown used to his frequent night terrors and accompanying screams. Plus he remembers, faintly, telling her once to just let him work himself through it when it happens.

He lets out a shaky sigh as he runs a hand through his bubblegum painted bangs.

What is he going to _do_ about all this?

He doesn’t have an answer right now and feels too sick and weak to bother trying to piece together a plan of action. Instead, he pulls his knees up to chest, wraps his arms around his legs, and then closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against his knees. Slumming it in a cold, wet alleyway in a sleazy part of the city hadn’t been part of his plans for the day, but so long as no one bothers him and just lets him rest, he thinks it’s probably fine. For now, at least.

But _god_ , why won’t this headache just go away and take the pain in his body along with it?!

“We can’t go home right now.” he answers her softly, mindful of how weak and hoarse his voice is at the moment. It’s not like he can stand now that he’s plopped himself to the ground anyway. “Just let me rest here for now, okay?”

His one safe haven from the world is now ruined. Will he be able to sleep in that place ever again? Or is this going to be something new to add onto his list of “I can’t human” problems? Like he even needs any more...

Roboppi sounds off a confused little trill, but she doesn’t question him any further about it, strangely enough. Her wheels make noise as she moves away from him and he looks up at her briefly, only to watch as she stops at the edge of the alleyway to peer out into the streets. A light flashes in front of her as something appears on her face plate, but she’s not facing him right now and he’s just too tired to process what it could be. He closes his eyes again and returns to pressing his forehead against his knees, groaning a little as the world spins and spins and _spins_ all around him. He feels nauseous and hot all over again.

What’s wrong with him? What’s making him so sick? Why is he seeing and hearing strange things and being strangled in his own home? Does it have to do with whatever that creature is? What even is it?

And how did Ai know about it?

He starts to drift as the static fizzles even louder in his ears, mind a buzzing haze of heat and pain and wayward thoughts about all the people in his life. He eventually loses track of time doing all this and enters that state of being where he’s not quite awake but not quite asleep either. And as he drifts and drifts, he loses his sense of self and isn’t aware of anything at all until a presence sitting by his side finally registers and he jolts awake, freezing on the spot.

A shadow looms over him, cold and dark and unfamiliar, and his heart drops, panic quickly beginning to set in.

It’s that thing. It found him. It _followed_ him. _Ai_ _failed_. _And_ \--

“Yusaku?”

And it all at once settles into the back of his mind as a familiar voice hesitantly calls out to him, filled with an immense worry. He opens his eyes and lifts his head a bit to peer up and sees Kusanagi kneeled down beside him with deep concern etched all over his face.

Kusanagi, his friend. Not that glitching creature that wants him dead.

“Kusa...nagi-san?”

A cool hand is pressed against his forehead and he closes his eyes again, the sensation of it feeling so good that he can’t help leaning into the touch. It makes the pain in his head lessen and the static buzzing underneath his skin soften.

He could fall asleep like this.

“I knew something was up when Roboppi contacted me with that tracking signal, but you’re really burning up…” Kusanagi mumbles. He pulls his hand away and Yusaku groans at its loss. It’s hard to process Kusanagi’s words with how foggy his mind feels. The heat is getting to him. “You’re in no condition to be sitting out in an alleyway like this. Especially not in _this_ part of the city. What the hell happened?”

Yusaku doesn’t answer, mostly because he can’t. He doesn’t understand the situation himself and is too feverish to think it all over clearly. His vision is blurry, too. Blurry and watery and he just wants to close his eyes and rest. He doesn’t care what sleazy things might be on the ground. If it’s cold and he’s left alone, then it’s fine. Probably.

Kusanagi sighs a little once it’s clear Yusaku isn’t going to answer him. “Come on. Just stay with me for the night. We can talk more about this later.”

Yusaku’s body feels like jelly as it’s forcibly moved, but he manages to get back onto his feet with Kusanagi’s help. He sways despite the arm wound tightly around his shoulders and the hand holding onto his arm, but that’s honestly the last thing he remembers because next thing he knows, he’s waking up on the floor of the food truck on a bed of blankets and pillows while a cool, wet rag sits atop his forehead.

He blinks up at the shadowed ceiling, groaning a little as he moves his sore limbs. His bruises _hurt_ and bending his wrists is _torture_. So he stops trying to push himself up and stills. Then he thinks (or tries to) to try figuring out what happened between now and then.

“Finally awake?” a tired voice says from somewhere above him. “You really scared me last night when you passed out like that.”

“Nn?”

Yusaku manages to turn his head up a bit with a wince to see Kusanagi seated at the big, secret computer terminal built into a rotating panel in the truck. The screens are all lit up with varying documents and video feeds displayed on every screen, but he can’t read any of the information on them from this angle. He remembers Kusanagi intended to look into Jin’s disappearance himself and Yusaku wonders what’s he’s found, if anything. It makes his head hurt trying to squint up at the screens, so he stops that fairly quickly in favor of studying Kusanagi’s face. Going by the sunlight filtering in through the front of the truck, it’s daylight now, which means Yusaku slept dreamlessly through the night, but judging by Kusanagi’s tired eyes and weary smile, he’s been up far longer than necessary and a frown settles on Yusaku’s face.

“Master is awake!”

The sound of rolling wheels drifts to his ears and Roboppi’s pleased face pops into view as she waves her little arms around excitedly. Yusaku blinks up at her, mouth forming a little ‘o’ in mild surprise.

“Yeah, but he should probably just get some more rest.” Kusanagi says, offering her a little head pat. Then he stands from his swivel chair. “That rag could use a refresh, though. Why don’t you check his temperature while I go do that?”

The rag resting against his forehead is removed and Yusaku’s eyes squint as Roboppi’s faceplate flashes a happy little emoji at him. Honestly, there’s not that much light in the room that can disturb his rest, but it still hurts his eyes all the same to have some flashing at him and so he closes them, brow creasing at the loss of the cool rag. Thankfully, cold metal replaces it not a moment later and he relaxes a bit, a soft sigh spilling from his lips at the contact.

Beep!

At the sound, Yusaku opens his eyes again and sees the glow of his latest temperature reading glaring down at him.

38.9°C.

Fuck. It hasn’t changed at all.

“Ohh…” Roboppi trills sadly.

Kusanagi returns shortly after and kneels down by Yusaku’s side. It feels awkward being cared for like this and having these two hover over him. It bothers him. So Yusaku tries to push himself up again despite the terrible ache in his wrists, but Kusanagi merely shakes his head and gently pushes him back down. Yusaku finds he doesn’t have the strength to fight him on it.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying where I can see you.”

Kusanagi takes one look at the temperature reading and a deep frown settles on his face.

“That’s higher than earlier…” he mumbles to himself. His expression pinches, a dark shadow falling across his face. “You were fine yesterday, too…”

The freshly wet rag is placed back atop Yusaku’s forehead and it feels like being plunged into a pool of cool water. It feels so good that he can’t help the little groan he makes from it and his mind starts to drift again.

But a hand gently runs through his hair and he looks up towards Kusanagi’s dark expression.

“Kusanagi-san…?”

“Think you can tell me where those bruises came from?” the other man asks, gaze flickering down past Yusaku’s face. It’s only then that Yusaku realizes that his jacket and tie are both gone and the top buttons of his dress shirt have been undone. “Those marks on your neck… Those are _hand prints_.”

Kusanagi’s voice is quiet and calm, but there’s an edge of absolute fury hiding just underneath.

“I saw the ones on your wrists, too.” he continues and his lips thin as he tries to contain his anger. “What happened last night? Can you give me their name?”

Dread pools into Yusaku’s chest and his anxiety spikes as memories of that creature flash through his mind. He clams up, throat tight and body ridged. He looks away after a moment and stares at a leg on the computer desk instead.

He can’t say. Not right now. Kusanagi already has enough to deal with considering Jin up and vanished after finally making progress in his recovery.

And now this.

The hand resting in his hair pulls back as Kusanagi sighs quietly. He readjusts the wet rag so it doesn’t slip and makes sure Yusaku’s blankets are in order before he stands and returns to his station.

“Just rest for now.” he says, that tightness still in his voice. “Homura-kun is out getting you some medicine, but should be back pretty soon.”

Oh, great... Takeru, too? Did he also see the bruises or did Kusanagi simply give him a call?

Yusaku closes his eyes again and decides he doesn’t want to think about it. If Kusanagi is this upset over Yusaku’s injuries, he can’t imagine how angry someone so emotionally-driven as Takeru must be. Deep down, warmth flutters in his chest to know there’s people in this world that care for him like this, but it’s followed by unease and uncertainty.

Is this okay? Is it okay to let himself become attached to these people like he is?

He doesn’t show it and never voices it (and often tries hard not to think about it), but he craves belonging to _someone_ . For the longest time, he’s romanticized the idea of that someone being his special person, the voice that called out to him begging he _live_ when he was already ready to die at the tender age of six. He didn’t want or need anyone else, so he thought, not even the parents that never claimed him after his rescue. Maybe relying on this image he’s had in his head for so long is where he’s gone wrong, but ever since being rescued from that white room, the thought of forming bonds with others has _terrified_ him. He doesn’t know who he can trust, he doesn’t know who won’t try to hurt him, and everyone that has tried to help him move on have looked at him through microscopes and medical tests with nothing but pity in their eyes.

He wants to be treated as an equal, as someone who isn’t broken.

Familial love, platonic love, romantic love… He’s not picky. He’ll take whichever is offered, if he can just let himself have it. Kusanagi is like a brother to him and Takeru is like the friend he’s always wanted, but he just--

He just--

_‘I just had to get sick…’_ he muses instead, a sour expression forming on his face as he stares up at the ceiling again.

And nearly be murdered by something that shouldn’t exist in the process.

Life never wants to be easy for him, does it? He thought after finally putting his past to rest and finding his special person that things would be better. He thought _he_ would be better.

But instead he’s _worse_.

There’s an immense sense of relief to know that his and the other fives tormentor is now dead and probably burning in a fiery pit, but he still has the nightmares of being dragged back into that white room, still struggles just to exist most days, and his special person, who he vowed to save, fled into the sunset on a stupid boat, of all things.

It all sucks, to put it mildly.

“Oh right.” Kusanagi continues after a bit, as a thought comes to mind. “Homura-kun is running by your place to grab you a change of clothes, too. Your uniform was pretty wet, but I didn’t really have anything to lend you so he offered.”

_What._

Yusaku’s eyes fly open as fear strikes his heart and he ignores the pain in his neck to jerk his head up to stare. He doesn’t know what kind of expression he’s making, but Kusanagi jumps a little when he glances down at him.

“I-is there a reason you’re staring at me like that?” Kusanagi says with a nervous chuckle, a hand rubbing that back of his head. “I didn’t know you could make a face like that jeez…”

“What did you say about Takeru?” he asks quickly, nerves alight with growing panic.

Kusanagi frowns and his eyebrows knit. “He’s picking you up a change of clothes... Why?”

No, no, _no_ , **_no_**!

Takeru _can’t_ go there. That thing is there! What if it tries to hurt him, too? What if Ai couldn’t hold it off? _What if_ \--

Kusanagi seems to realize something because his expression changes and his eyes narrow with a dangerous glint.

“...is that where you got those bruises?” he asks slowly. He rises from his seat to kneel by Yusaku’s side once more. “Yusaku, I need you to tell me right now. _Who_ did this to you?”

He suddenly feels very small under the scrutiny of Kusanagi’s fierce gaze and the cold way his voice flows. None of it is directed at him and he’s aware of this, but being feverish and unsure of how to deal with relationships like he is, he feels at fault regardless.

When he remains silent, Kusanagi’s eye shimmer and he grabs his shoulders, being careful not to hurt him in the process.

“Yusaku, _please_.”

Yusaku’s lips twist and he finds he can’t hold Kusanagi’s gaze for much longer. He looks away again, voice quiet when he finally manages to answer.

“Yes,” he says and Kusanagi’s grip tightens a bit. “But I don’t know who they were. They might still--”

Kusanagi abrutely stands and whips out one of his cell phones before he can finish speaking. Yusaku blinks up at him.

“Kusanagi-san, I--”

“Don’t worry. I’m just calling Homura-kun.” he assures and makes quick work of typing out a number and setting the phone to his ear. His voice is tight. “I’ll tell him not to go there. It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

Despite the assurances, he does anyway and it only grows when Takeru actually doesn’t come back, like he told Kusanagi he would.

He’s late.


	3. Ai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takeru is late in returning to Cafe Nagi, but what happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i struggled not to post a 15k+ chapter and managed to rearrange things so i wouldn't have to do that haha

 

“Don’t go to Yusaku’s apartment.” Kusanagi says before Takeru even has a chance to greet him. His voice is a bit static-y, but Takeru reasons they probably just have a bad connection. “He’s awake and he told me that’s where the bruises came from.”

Takeru’s legs still at that and he pauses, face going blank and breath catching in his throat at the news. A white, plastic bag of medical supplies he holds in his left-hand slips from his grasp as shock takes hold, but it catches on his middle finger and thankfully doesn’t actually touch the ground at all. The small part of him that’s still being mindful of his surroundings is relieved at this. It’s too important to drop because it’s stuff for Yusaku that Kusanagi asked him to pick up. Like the medication for his too-high fever, some electrolyte drinks to keep him hydrated, and bandages for...for the bruises… Because someone hurt Yusaku in his own home.

And that knowledge makes Takeru’s blood simmer and his ears ring.

From his cozy position dozing in Takeru’s jacket pocket, Flame opens one curious eye to stare up at him in interest. It’s funny how sleepy someone can look when, according to Flame himself, A.I.’s didn’t need sleep to function, but Flame is sort of like a cat in that he’s attracted to small, warm spaces (especially when those spaces are something of Takeru’s) and has recreational naps anyway.

“Hm?” he hums up at Takeru in curiosity. His head tilts as one brow raises, but he makes no attempt to leave the comfort of his napping pocket. “Something wrong?”

Takeru faintly hears him, but can’t push past the slowly building rage to answer back. He instead focuses on the matter at hand, the fact he now has a lead as to what happened to Yusaku, and on the voice filtering out of his cellphone.

“Shouldn’t I go anyway then?” Takeru responds with. His voice is quickly losing its calm and Flame is instantly alert because of it. “I know martial arts. I can--”

“ _No_.”

Takeru’s eyes widen a little and his fingers curl around the plastic bag’s handles, effectively pulling it back into his grasp with much more force than necessary.

“But--!”

“I know how you feel. I _know_.” Kusanagi sounds like he’s struggling to keep himself in check and Takeru backs down--if only a little--a sad little frown crossing his lips. “But it’s too risky to go alone. So just come back, alright?”

Frustration pricks at his nerves as the urge to argue rises and rises. _Because someone_ **_deliberately_ ** _hurt Yusaku_ and not knowing who or why is eating him up inside.

Quiet, strong Yusaku who’s suffered as much as any of them have, lives by himself in a crummy apartment with peeling walls, has no blood relatives to take care of him, and still pushes himself to _fight_ when it would be so much easier to give in under the building pressure of his frayed mental health. Yusaku tries so hard to _live_ and whether as Yusaku or as Playmaker, he exudes a strength Takeru isn’t ashamed to admit he idolizes. He’s never met any of the other Lost Kids before and always figured they were like him, suffering and bitter and angry at the world for having their lives ruined. And, well, he wasn’t wrong, but Yusaku is so much more than that. He actually picked himself up, told the world “ _no_ ”, and _did something_ about it.

And to be punished for that? How is that fair?!

Yusaku still struggles and isn’t exactly the talkative or social type, but he still let Takeru get close enough to him to become friends. What started as hero worship quickly turned into something else and more than anything, he wants to protect Yusaku and be by his side in whatever form that takes. If Kusanagi is his shield, then Takeru will be his sword.

_‘I want to help him.’_

The chance to do that now is being handed to him on a silver platter with the spare key to Yusaku’s apartment burning a hole in his pants pocket. There’s nothing stopping him from storming Yusaku’s apartment, fists raised for a fight. But Takeru bites at his lips and hesitantly nods instead of arguing. Then he realizes Kusanagi can’t actually see him and he hums, the sound coming out more like a short, wavering whine.

“Mm… I’ll, I’ll come back.” he manages to say, words stilted and quiet but honest. “...I promise.”

Kusanagi’s relieved sigh spills through the phone speaker. “Good... We really need to get that fever of Yusaku’s down. It’s gotten worse since you left.”

Flame slips out of Takeru’s pocket and floats up to press one side of his face to the opposite side of Takeru’s cell phone, brow creased as he quietly listens. Takeru blinks at him--a bit surprised and distantly concerned about him being seen--but ultimately says nothing about it. This residential part of the city isn’t that busy during this time of the morning anyway. Besides, with all the tech Den City is known for and considering how big Solid Vision is in other parts of the world where Duel Monsters live alongside humans, would anyone really care all that much?

“How bad is he?”

Kusanagi sighs. “Fever’s not as high as it could be, I guess, but it’s enough. I’m having Roboppi check it every hour and it’s rising. I know people can spontaneously get sick sometimes, but this is just--”

He huffs out another sigh and mumbles something neither of them can catch. Flame just hums in response and Takeru’s face pinches.

“Has he said anything else about the bruises? Like who did it?”

“No, no. He doesn’t know who attacked him.” Kusanagi’s voice then drops, becoming quieter, just above a whisper. “But something’s fishy about it. I _know_ Yusaku and he’s hiding something. I just, I don’t know what it is.”

Flame’s eyes narrow in thought. “Do you think he’s protecting someone?”

Takeru blinks at him. Protecting someone? Surely Yusaku wouldn’t. Who on Earth would he be willing to protect like that?

Kusanagi stays quiet for a moment despite Flame speaking up. Maybe he’s used to A.I. randomly popping up in conversation like that, but it’s strange all the same that he doesn’t immediately deny the possibility Flame proposed.

“...I don’t know.” His voice sounds off, too, and Takeru shares a look with Flame. “I really...don’t know. Yusaku always...he always takes on too much by himself, you know? If he thinks something will be a burden, he won’t say anything to me about it. I wouldn’t think he’d do something extreme like protecting his attacker, but...”

The fact there’s a “but” there at all is alarming enough. Takeru hasn’t known Yusaku for very long. Just a couple of months is all. But it’s enough for him to understand Yusaku’s general nature and he doesn’t think Yusaku would protect someone like that unless there was something special about them. He doesn’t know what that would be, though.

“I don’t know.” Kusanagi finishes. “Just come back soon, okay? Gonna try to get some fluids in him in the meantime.”

Takeru nods again. “Yeah. We’ll be back soon. Just have to grab those drinks you mentioned and we’ll be on our way.”

Flame pulls away from the phone and stares at Takeru with a suspicious squint. He has every right to because they already got the electrolyte drinks Kusanagi asked for. This is a very blatant lie and Takeru has never been very good at lying, but Flame says nothing and just silently watches him instead with a creased brow, thinking as he usually does when Takeru does something strange.

“Thanks. I’ll make you a hot dog as a reward when you get back.”

Takeru laughs a little. “Sounds good. Later!”

He presses a button on his cell phone, the call ends with a soft beep, and then he slips the device back into his pocket. Flame is on him the moment the call ends, however.

“Why did you lie?” he asks, arms crossing. “You’re not planning on doing what I think, are you?”

Takeru shrugs, but there’s a determined glint in his eyes as he clenches his hand into a fist and narrows his eyes at the ground.

“Like I said, I know martial arts. I can protect myself.” he says and there’s a hard press to his lips when he looks back up at Flame, eyes on fire with all the rage he’s kept held back. “Someone hurt Yusaku and this is _finally_ my chance to help. If the asshole who hurt him is still there, I’ll make _sure_ they get thrown in jail.”

Flame huffs out a sigh, eyes closing as he shakes his head. “What am I going to do with you…”

Takeru isn’t sure if that’s disappointment he hears in Flame’s tone or not, but he’s quick to jump to his own defense anyway. If anyone understands, surely Flame does, right? He knows, more than anyone else, how Takeru feels about Yusaku as both his own personal hero and as a friend he’d like to get closer to.

“I know it’s reckless, okay?” he admits, shoulders sagging a bit. “But I can’t just let this go! I know Kusanagi-san is just thinking of my safety, but if we don’t do something _now_ , then whoever hurt Yusaku might get away and hurt him again!”

Flame opens one eye and studies Takeru carefully, humming thoughtfully as he ponders over this. Takeru would like for Flame to be on his side for this and support his decision--reckless as is it--, but even if he’s still against the idea, Takeru will go to Yusaku’s apartment anyway. He _has_ to. This angry, anxious energy clawing at his chest won’t settle otherwise.

It takes Flame a long moment, but eventually, he speaks up again, albeit hesitant.

“...he does need a change of clothes...” Takeru’s face lights up at that and Flame quickly turns away, a bit embarrassed. He clears his throat. “But once you locate a spare outfit, we leave. Deal?”

“Deal!”

With Flame on his side and the burst of confidence that comes with it, they set off towards Yusaku’s apartment. Flame resettles himself back into the pocket he was napping in earlier and Takeru takes the opportunity to sprint. Yusaku needs medicine A.S.A.P. and Kusanagi will realize something is up if he takes too long, so Takeru doesn’t have a lot of time to waste. Running is quicker, even if it draws a couple of odd looks from the scarce few he passes by. It helps disperse some of the ugly energy churning in his gut, at least. And when he reaches the apartment building, he makes a dash up the staircase, only to stop when he’s about to land on Yusaku’s floor.

“You’re making too much noise!” Flame hisses up at him and Takeru rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “There’s not that many people on this floor, remember? Be stealthy.”

Even if he knew how to be stealthy (and he certainly doesn’t; he’s never been patient enough to learn how), the anxious energy inside him won’t let him be still. He does slow to a normal pace, but that quickly dissolves and draws a groan out of Flame when Takeru rushes to Yusaku’s door, his footsteps echoing loudly against the stone walls.

“Stealth!”

Takeru winces and then makes a face down at his partner. “Sorry! You know I suck at stuff like this.”

Flame’s eyes narrow into a deadpan expression. “I believe Kusanagi does as well, which is why he told you not to come here.”

Takeru pouts at that a little. So he sucks at stealth, big deal. What he lacks in that, he more than makes up for in strength. Even if Yusaku’s attacker is still here and heard the noise, Takeru can still take them on. He’s more than ready to have a go at this asshole before having them tossed in jail.

“Yeah, yeah...” he mumbles as he fishes around in his pocket for the key Kusanagi lent him. Once he finds it, he pulls it out and moves to stick it into the door’s lock. “Have a little more fai--hunh?”

He tries to push the key into the lock, only for the entire door to creak open instead.

It’s not locked.

It wasn’t even closed all the way.

“I’d like to consider this a hint of danger,” Flame says with a disgruntled look. “but if Yusaku ran out of here last night, he probably didn’t bother trying to secure the door. Still, be wary.”

Although he still feels a sense of apprehension, Flame’s little explanation makes sense and Takeru nods before quickly pocketing the spare apartment key. He makes to head inside but stops and sets the plastic bag still in his hand down by the door as an afterthought. In case things go bad, at least the supplies won’t be damaged.

_‘In we go.’_

He pushes against the door slowly and enters the apartment as quietly and calmly as his anxious heart will allow.

Unfortunately, the gods of stealth aren’t on his side because the door makes the loudest creek in human history and both of them wince as the sound echos throughout the seemingly empty apartment. The noisy door even bumps against the kitchen wall, making even more noise. If anyone is still inside Yusaku’s apartment, they’re well aware that someone is here now.

“So much for stealth.” Flame says and presses a palm to his forehead as a sigh leaves him.

“I mean, I _tried_ .” Takeru defends. “It’s not _my_ fault. It’s the door’s.”

He never expected to be sabotaged by a creaky door, of all things. Yusaku really needs to oil the hinges on this thing, once he gets better and they find the culprit anyway.

“Never mind it.” Flame says with a shake of his head. “I don’t sense anything strange just yet and we’re already here. We might as well investigate the crime scene while getting those clothes.”

Takeru grins a little despite the situation. “Like a detective?”

Flame slaps a hand against his own chest. “With an indomitable soul of fire and passion, Detective Flame is on the case!”

He slips out of Takeru’s pocket to float up into the air, hands at his hips as he surveys the kitchen. There’s nothing out of the ordinary and everything looks to be in its place. No open drawers, no pilfered items, and nothing odd left out in the open. The kitchen looks exactly the same as Takeru last saw it a few days ago, right down to a dirty glass he himself used still sitting in the sink waiting to be washed.

Flame sets a hand against his chin and hums. “Normally a break-in coincides with something broken and this being an apartment on a high floor, the only way in would be the front door. It should have some signs of tampering, but--”

Takeru walks back to the door and inspects it. “I’m not good at deduction like you and Yusaku are, but I’ve picked a few locks before and this door has an old design. It’d be pretty easy to pick without leaving any obvious marks.”

“Ah. I’ll keep that in mind. Also, why would you need to pick a lock in this day and age?” Flame asks with a raised brow. “I know your history, but even still.”

Takeru splutters as his face heats up. “I-it wasn’t for anything bad, I swear! Just, just sometimes I forget my keys and Kiku got locked out once so… It’s a useful skill!”

Flame waves him off. “Understood, understood.”

Takeru huffs as Flame floats off in the direction of the living room that’s situated on a lower floor panel just below the kitchen. The apartment has an open floor plan with a mini-set of floating steps leading down into the living room area. At one point, this apartment was probably really nice, but neglect and a change of building owners forced it into decay. With a little paint and a bit of tinkering with the heating and cooling system (which can be unreliable on a good day), this place could be much nicer. Yusaku just doesn’t seem to care all the much in the long run, though.

“It’s strange.” Flame’s puzzled voice drifts up from the living room and Takeru walks over to the counter closest to the stair edge. From here, it’s easy to see down into the living room. Both the couch and television set sits unharmed and unstolen in their respective places. “Nothing is stolen or broken. If thievery was the goal, then nothing standard was taken. Did Yusaku have his deck on him, perchance?”

Takeru shakes his head. “No. He didn’t have his duel disk either.”

He looks back and considers closing the front door but decides against it and merely descends the steps into the living room.

“You think that’s what they were after?”

Flame hums. “Possibly, but that raises a few red flags. No one knows his VR identity and he keeps a dummy deck on him that isn’t worth an attempted murder over. If they were after his deck, then they already know who he is. It may have been less about the deck itself and more about going after the deck’s owner instead. I’d say this was planned.”

Planned… Then someone really was trying to kill Yusaku, or rather, Playmaker.

Takeru’s teeth grit and his hands ball into fists at his side. His shoulders shake.

“Do you think they might still be here?”

He wants them to be. He wants them to be cowering in a hiding place somewhere, waiting for him and Flame to leave so they don’t get caught. Or maybe waiting for a chance to strike when his guard is down? That would be preferable. He’d give anything to slam a fist into their face a few times.

Flame stares at him for a moment, carefully surveys their surroundings, and then shakes his head. “It’s doubtful at this point. We’ve made so much noise already. Plus, if Yusaku was always their goal, it’s more likely they tried chasing after him.”

Takeru lets out a shaky breath before his shoulders slump. Flame floats over and sets a tiny hand against his shoulder.

“I understand how you feel, but there’s nothing more we can do about it. The best we can do now is keep an eye on Yusaku and help him recover.” Flame gives him a pat before turning his attention to another set of stairs, the ones leading down into Yusaku’s dark room. There’s a light inside that flickers every so often, making it seem more ominous than it should. “Besides, there’s one more room we’ve yet to inspect.”

Takeru follows Flame’s gaze and frowns even more deeply. The lack of any signs of a struggle in both the kitchen and the living room can only mean it happened elsewhere and considering the apartment is small with the only other room being a bathroom--

“I wish they were here so I could punch something.” Takeru mumbles to himself and misses the way Flame shakes his head at him.

“We can always access the beta areas of new Link VRAINS later.” Flame suggests. “Dueling isn’t quite restored yet, but you can always use the RPG elements to punch a few things that way. I hear SOL is even organizing a special event for the official reopening next month.”

That sounds tempting and he’s been aching to take his avatar out on a proper test run for ages, but with Yusaku’s lack of interest in returning to Link VRAINS and now his health on the decline, Takeru’s heart isn’t totally into it. He really wants to travel around on a D-Board with Playmaker at his side and maybe catch a duel or two (or maybe even a duel together?), but considering Link VRAINS is still in the process of being rebuilt and dueling within it hasn’t been fully reintegrated, that isn’t going to happen just yet (maybe never, if Playmaker is really gone for good).

Still, Takeru considers it. “Mm, maybe.”

Deciding not to waste any more time, the two of them head for the steps leading down into Yusaku’s basement-like bedroom. As they descend the floating staircase down into what feels like a cave, Takeru can hear the faint buzz of a lightbulb as the flickering light within Yusaku’s bedroom blinks under the strain of trying to remain on. It fills his belly with the apprehension he’d felt earlier and he swallows around a lump in his throat, suddenly feeling a bit on edge.

_‘Is it cooler in here or am I just imagining things?’_

The temperature seems to drop with each step Takeru takes and when Yusaku’s bed comes into view, he has to stop because something doesn’t feel right. The blackout curtains Yusaku keeps draped over the windows leaves the room shrouded in darkness and the only way either of them can really see is when the light flickers.

His steps slow and he presses against the wall to peek around the corner. Flame, too, seems to share in his hesitancy because he squints out into the darkness and keeps by Takeru’s side rather than continuing on into the room on his own.

_‘What’s that?’_

There’s something off about a portion of the wall near the bottom of the stairs, but otherwise, Takeru can’t see any humanoid shadows waiting for him to come down. That doesn’t mean there’s nothing hiding just underneath the staircase, however.

Takeru bites at his bottom lip.

What should he do? He’s always been the type to do things before thinking, but if he winds up dead because he was a little too careless, then where will that leave Yusaku? He won’t get justice or his medicine.

“Stay here.” He jumps a little when Flame wanders up and whispers right next to his ear. “I’m going to pull down the curtains.”

“But--”

Flame presses a hand against Takeru’s mouth and shakes his head. “ _I_ can float. _You_ can’t. _Stay_.”

He doesn’t like it all that much, but Takeru gives him a hesitant nod regardless and watches as Flame disappears into the inky blackness. He becomes visible every so often when the lightbulb deigns to flicker and it makes Takeru’s anxiety rise the farther away Flame gets.

He’s not good with creepy situations like this. The flickering light and dark room remind him too much of a horror setup and that keeps him frozen to the wall, where the light from the living room still faintly touches his back. Aside from the buzz of the lightbulb when it flickers and a faint snap of static coming from...somewhere, the entire apartment is silent, eerily so.

_There’s no ghosts here,_ he reminds himself.

His wandering imagination gives rise to an image of a ghostly white hand slipping up between the stair gaps. It wraps decaying fingers around his ankle, digs broken fingernails into his skin, and he has to force himself to stop right there because all he’s doing is spooking himself. He shakes his head to clear the image, steels his nerves with a reminder of why he’s here, and forces himself to stay put lest he run off in a cowardly retreat. Running away won’t benefit Yusaku in any way and he can’t just abandon Flame like that. Besides, there’s no ghosts here, only a living, breathing human who hurt his friend. If anything else is in this apartment with them, it’s that.

And Takeru isn’t afraid of humans.

_‘I won’t run. Yusaku needs me to not run.’_

His breaths come a little quicker as a hand fists into his school blazer and he doesn’t realize he’s having a small anxiety attack until light finally floods the room and chases the phantom thoughts still lingering in the corners of his mind away. Like they’ve been snipped with a pair of scissors, the coil of nerves tied around his lungs unravel and he can breathe normally again.

“You okay?” Flame asks as the first curtain drops from his hands. He has a brow quirked up in concern. “You look a little pale.”

He stumbles to the top of the first landing and lets out a huge sigh of relief. “I-I’m fine…”

“Hm…”

Flame doesn’t look convinced but returns to his self-appointed task and makes quick work of pulling down the other curtain as well. It falls into a heap on the ground, right next to the other one. More daylight shines into the room, illuminating all its scary corners and making it look like an actual bedroom rather than some underground cavern filled with monsters. The overhead light still flickers, but it turns into more of an inconvenience to his eyes rather than the ill omen it seemed only a moment ago.

“There’s nothing under the stairs.” Flame says, crossing his arms. “Looks like whoever was here left, but... _well_.”

Flame turns his attention to other parts of the room--particularly the wall by the bottom of the staircase--and his face pinches into displeasure. Curious and a bit disconcerted by his partner’s expression, Takeru follows his gaze as he walks down the second set of stairs, only to pause and stare at a dark dent pressed into the wall just a few feet off the ground. It looks like something was slammed into it and then had charcoal smeared across its paint. Furthermore, there’s dark smudges rubbed into the wooden floor in random spots all over the bedroom.

“What the hell?”

It’s like a painter went absolutely wild and flung all their charcoal paints to the floor in an angry outburst. There’s no pattern to it and everything is a mess including the bed with its torn up sheets that look like jagged claws raked all across the mattress.

Flame hums but doesn’t offer up any ideas. He’s just as spooked by the state of Yusaku’s room as he. He shrugs with open arms and shakes his head in disbelief.

“There was definitely a struggle here, but the evidence doesn’t make much sense given what we know.” Which is essentially nothing because Yusaku hasn’t been awake to tell the story. “Looking at these claw marks, it almost appears Yusaku was attacked by a beast rather than a human. I don’t suppose you humans have other animalistic anatomy or traits I’ve yet to learn about, do you?”

Takeru shakes his head. “Maybe in manga, but not for real. Unless they had a weapon…”

And that’s not something Takeru particularly wants to think about because that would mean the culprit originally intended to do far worse than strangle Yusaku. But judging by all this, Yusaku fought back _hard_ and ended up getting nearly choked to death instead.

_God_ , that makes him so _angry_.

“A weapon is likely.” Flame agrees with a hum. “But we’ll never know the truth until Yusaku himself tells us… But--”

Takeru deflates and finishes Flame’s sentence with a sigh. “He’s not talking.”

He stares up at the dent in the wall with a twist to his lips.

If Kusanagi’s worries are any indication, Yusaku is hiding something about the incident from them. He gets that Yusaku is probably traumatized by the whole ordeal and doesn’t want to talk about it, but it’s not doing anyone any good if he stays quiet. Yusaku is stubborn, but being stubborn has to have its limits and--...and...

No.

No, he shouldn’t think this way.

He’s understandably frustrated, but that’s no reason to get upset over something out of his control. Yusaku is hurt and needs time to heal. Eventually, when he’s well enough to and has had time to process everything that’s happened, he’ll tell them about the attack. Until then...well, it’s like Flame said. All they can do now is help Yusaku recover and make sure whoever hurt him doesn’t try doing it again.

And part of helping in Yusaku’s recovery involves getting him a change of clothes so he doesn’t get sicker than he already is.

He takes one last, hard look at the wall dent, makes a mental note to tell Kusanagi about everything later--and boy is he going to be unhappy about Takeru lying--, and then moves on to Yusaku’s dresser to riffle through the drawers, feeling a little embarrassed about searching through Yusaku’s things without his permission. In this particular case, he thinks it’s understandable, but even still…

“What should I even bring him?” he wonders out loud. The drawers aren’t particularly organized aside from a haphazardly thrown together underwear drawer. So he’s stumbling across all kinds of different articles of clothing mixed in with each other. “Pajamas, hoodie, another hoodie--oh! This one has cat ears? Aha! I didn’t think Yusaku would own something like this.”

Trying to imagine Yusaku in it makes his cheeks feel warm and rather than think on what that means, Takeru simply pulls the hoodie out to inspect it. It’s definitely too big for Yusaku’s slender build, but it does look pretty cozy and the material is almost velvety--it’s incredibly soft! It’s dyed in shades of purple and the cat ears sewn into the hood have silky golden centers that make them stand out against the background of purple monochrome. The color scheme reminds him a bit of Ai’s and he wonders, briefly, if Yusaku got this before or after meeting his Ignis.

“Seems fitting.” Flame muses. He seems to have lost interest in inspecting the room any further and floats over to examine the purple hoodie instead. “Funny, it reminds me of Ai... Hm. I wonder how things are at home...”

There’s a wistful look to Flame’s expression. Despite claiming to enjoy his life with Takeru, he does look a little homesick sometimes.

Takeru smiles a little and gently bumps his shoulder against Flame’s hip.

“You can always go visit.” he suggests. He folds the hoodie back up and sets it to the side, deciding he’d take it to Yusaku. Then he dives back into the dresser drawers to search for other things to go along with it. He’s been trying to avoid the underwear drawer, but there’s really no way around it, is there? It’s not like anyone is around to judge him for it anyway. “Maybe you can tell Ai to come back and see Yusaku, too?”

“Mm. Perhaps.” Flame nods in agreement but then pauses and looks puzzled as he holds his chin in his hand. “It’s strange, though. Us Ignis all have strong connections to our Origins. He should have--”

_“Mih pleh.”_

“Nnh!”

Takeru winces as static stabs at his temples, making them throb sharply. It feels like being struck with a crack of electricity and he gasps, vision swimming. He drops whatever he was holding and presses a hand to his head, eyes squinting and ears ringing as his other hand bears down on the drawer. It creaks with the strain.

“Wh..at is this…”

He hasn’t felt a sensation like this in so long he almost forgot how agonizing it was to suffer through. A painful surge of electricity, stabbing into his skin and making him cry out for it to stop. This time is different as it’s all localized in his skull, but it rips a memory right out of his mind (of writhing in agony as a child) and he struggles to breathe past the darkness blurring the edges of his vision.

“Takeru?! What’s wro--”

Before Flame can even finish, a tiny hand shoots out of the drawer Takeru is on the verge of breaking and latches onto Takeru’s hand. It cold, rubbery, and sends a shock through his skin, like being stabbed with a needle or the smallest knife in the world.

And Takeru, despite the pounding in his head and the static filling up his thoughts, shrieks.

He snatches his hand away and bolts back, his back colliding with the bed in his haste to get away and that makes his head hurt all the more when he slams against the side. The added pain briefly makes him forget his fright and he presses both hands to the sides of his head, doubling over as nausea hits him hard.

“Takeru!”

_“Pleh...f...fff”_

Takeru manages to look back up in time to see a tiny figure crawling out of the drawer and almost throws something at it out of reflex, but he realizes, at the last minute (just as his hand finds Yusaku’s pillow lying on the ground), what the creature is.

As does Flame.

“Ai?” Flame’s eyes widen, incredulous. He turns back from his attempt at rushing to Takeru’s side to instead rush to his fellow Ignis’. All things considered, Takeru doesn’t blame him. “What, what happened to you?”

Ai looks _terrible_ , mangled all to Hell and back. He’s managed to flop himself over the drawer’s side, but he hangs there like that simple act took every bit of his energy away. He’s missing chunks of his body and one of his arms looks like it was ripped off. There’s large gashes on his face and an even nastier one running straight up his spine. The missing pieces of his body glitch in a rainbow of colors and the little purple Ignis’ eyes are narrowed in pain. Takeru can’t stifle the gasp at seeing Ai so broken and Flame looks absolutely distraught, downright heartbroken to see his friend so injured.

“F-Flame…” Ai manages to say with some effort. He looks to be struggling to speak and his typical mischevious nature and cutesy way of speaking are all gone. “Where’s...Yusaku?”

Flame floats a little closer and reaches out a hand towards him, but Ai suddenly snaps back. _“Detcefni m'i! Em hcuot t'nod!”_

Flames flinches away and draws back a little, completely taken aback by his fellow Ignis’ behavior. Takeru can’t understand a word of what Ai just said, but Flame seems to because his body suddenly tenses and Takeru tries to listen despite the pounding in his skull.

“...Yusaku is sick, but he’s safe.” Flame says. His brow creases deeply and his fists clench. “Tell me what’s going on. What happened here?”

Ai groans and flops back over the drawer’s edge once more. His body glitches in and out of existence like it’s trying to fade away. It worries Takeru, but he can’t force himself to move back over to the two of them.

_“Em dnuora syats eh regnol eht rekcis teg lliw Urekat. Gnol ereh yats t'nac i.”_ Ai says in garbled syllables that make Takeru’s ears hurt. It’s wave after wave of piercing static and he doesn’t understand how Flame can even stand to listen to it. Maybe A.I. are immune. _“Ukasuy tcetorp esaelp dna Urekat htiw yats ot evah uoy. Emoh kcab emoc t'nod ,od uoy revetahw.”_

“ _Why?_ ” Flame asks, frustration bleeding into his words. “What’s going on? What do they need protection from?”

“Protection?” Takeru repeats and closes his eyes as the static grows worse. “Nnh…

Flame glances back, expression melting into concern. “Takeru…”

Ai just shakes his head in response as his body glitches in and out of existence once more. This time, it’s more severe.

_“Gninthgil s'ti.”_

“Lightning?” Flame repeats, confused by the name. He turns back, torn between tending to Takeru or speaking with Ai. “Who is that? Are they the ones responsible for the attack on Yusaku?”

_“Singi...Thgil eht.”_ It’s becoming increasingly harder for Ai to string together full sentences. Even to Takeru’s ears, the garbled nonsense he’s speaking sounds disjointed and unfocused. _“Evael...s-su tel t'now eh.”_

“That doesn’t make any--”

“ _Please_ protect Yusaku.” Ai switches back to Japanese suddenly and his words send a chill through Takeru’s body. “I couldn’t--I didn’t make it in time. I...I couldn’t--”

Ai’s body glitches again, but this time it doesn’t quite stabilize and he’s more faded than solid.

“ _Ai!_ ”

_“0111011001101001011100100111010101110011--”_

There’s a sound like glitching radio static and then Ai disappears like someone wiped a puddle of rainbow water away. He smears into nonexistence with a hand desperately reaching out towards them. Flame tries to reach out for him in return but only succeeds in snatching a handful of air. All at once, the static drilling into Takeru’s skull vanishes. His vision clears, the pounding in his head stops, and he feels better than he has all day.

At least, physically.

“Ai!” Flames calls out to him again and whirls around, looking for any sign of his injured friend. But there’s nothing. Ai is gone. To where? Takeru has no idea. “...Ai…”

“What...what language was that?” Takeru asks. He flexes his fingers, relieved at finally being able to move again. “What did he say and what did he mean about protecting Yusaku? What’s going on?”

It feels like that question has been thrown around a lot today, but Takeru can’t help spilling all the thoughts and questions he wasn’t able to when Ai was here.

_Something_ big is happening and whatever it is, it seems like Yusaku might be at the center of it.

“I don’t...I don't know. He wasn’t making any sense. I--” Flame turns back to Takeru and hurries over to him. He presses worried hands to Takeru’s face and inspects him with a careful eye. “Are _you_ okay? I’m sorry. I--”

Takeru smiles a little and rubs a finger against Flame’s head in a little reassurance pet. “I get it. Don’t worry. I’m actually doing a lot better since he left. That language he was speaking really hurt my ears, though. _Ouch_.”

Flame looks only slightly relieved by that but still accepts the head rub. He even gives a little nuzzle of his own in return. “I see…”

Once he feels a little more assured that Takeru isn’t going to suddenly become catatonic or be struck with another crack of pain, he backs away a little and crosses his arms. He looks a bit calmer now, but he's fidgeting just a little, shoulders still taunt with stress.

“I don’t know what happened to Ai, but I imagine Yusaku might provide us with answers.” he continues. His expression is grave, however. “As for that language you heard, I’m not sure why he spoke it here, but it’s native to our home.”

Takeru blinks. “So, you’re saying it’s--”

Flame nods. “Mm. It’s one created by our algorithm: the language of the Ignis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so what do you guys think is going on? i'm curious to hear everyone's thoughts~ :3c


End file.
